Voidchaser chpt 22

Hi all,

Here's chapters 22 and 23 of Tale of the Wayfarerer (formerly 
Voidchaser)  I'm a little behind schedule posting this; I completed and 
posted another sherlock holmes/ravenloft mystery to the ravenloft list, 
that slowed me down some, plus of course the holidays... anyway, 
hopefully I'll be back on schedule, posting 2 chpts/wk.

A good deal happens in these next chapters, and some of the theories 
will be confirmed/denied... I hope you like it.  :)

If you're interested in finding previous chapters, they're available on 
Static's awesome spelljammer site, Beyond the Moons at:
http://www.gwr.com/~eshum/rpg/sj/tales/chaser/chaser.html

And if you're interested in my other writings (planescape novel, realms 
novel, and now two ravenloft mysteries) you can find them (or links to 
them) on my storypage:
http://members.tripod.com/~Madmartigen/Sebastian.html

Again, thanks for all the comments and encouragement you guys have given 
me.  I thrive on feedback, so please let me know what you think.  I hope 
you enjoy.

- Sebastian

		The Blue Man is the Keeper of Shades
		A mysterious figure, without a face
		You'll never find him, wherever you seek
		He haunts the dreams of Syrrus B



				Chapter Twenty-Two


	The girl was human, probably not more than nineteen years of age, with 
clear blue eyes and soft dark-blond hair pulled back in a makeshift 
ponytail.  A few wisps of hair had tugged free and hung down over face, 
which was smudged with dirt and grime.  She was pretty, but gaunt, as if 
she had not eaten in some time.   She blinked, shielding her eyes from 
the light.  "Please," she said, cowering backwards, her ratty blanket 
clutched protectively in front of her, "please don't hurt me.  I'll do 
whatever you want."
	Jack cursed, lowering the lantern.  "Bloody hell...  Who are you, 
girl?"
	"Selithera," she answered haltingly.  "Selithera Duchesca."
	"You're the only one here?"  Jack raised the lantern again, peering at 
the darkened corners of the room.
	"Yes," said the girl.  "For days now."
	"And before that?  No-one else has been held here?"
	She shook her head.  "I don't know," she said, her voice on the edge of 
tears. "I don't even know how long I've been here.  Please... are you 
here to free me?"
	Jack scowled.  "I don't even know who you are, girl.  Another blind 
lead, and more time lost.  But if Trytius doesn't have him, then who?"  
This last was muttered to himself.
	"Sir?"  The girl's voice was hesitant; fearful.  "Sir, my father... my 
father is very wealthy.  I know that he would reward you for my... safe 
return."
	Jack spared her a glance.  "I'm not interested in Trytius's petty 
kidnapping schemes.  I'm after a man."
	"My father is powerful.  Perhaps... perhaps he could help."
	"I doubt it," said Jack.  "Who is your father?  Some star merchant 
who's daughter was snatched?"
	"Elias Timoth."
	He stared at her.  "The Elias Timoth?"
	She nodded.
	"I thought you said your name was Duchesca."
	She nodded again.  "After my mother.  My father never married her."
	Jack was silent a moment.  He glanced at her nightgown.  "Is that all 
you've got?"
	She glanced down, then gave a small nod.  "They took my clothes," she 
said.  "I don't know why.  Maybe they thought it would make it more 
difficult to escape.  Why?"
	"We're leaving," said Jack.  "You're coming with me.  You just became 
useful."

					*	*	*

	Julian paused at the entrance to the Black Palace, looking back at the 
darkened street.  Not for the first time he regretted that this place 
was cloaked in eternal darkness.  With no sun or starlight, the 
blackness of the street was nearly absolute, punctured here and there 
along its length by smoky torchlight or dim lanternlight emanating from 
the windows of shops and houses.  There were people on the streets, but 
in the dim light they were little more than fleeting shadows; the 
suggestion of movement here, a silhouette flitting across a patch of 
light there.  They could have all been everyday people going about their 
business... or the soldiers, tracking him.
	Quickly he pushed into the inn.  Hesitating was sure to draw attention.
	The Black Palace was thronged with people, busier than he had seen it 
before, and he couldn't help an inward sigh of relief as he lost himself 
among them.  Hiding in a crowd was easy.
	He hadn't been entirely certain of his decision to come here - after 
all, it was possible that the soldiers who were tracking him would know 
this was a likely place for him to hide.  But if he kept to the streets, 
he'd probably only get himself lost, and maybe make it easier for the 
soldiers to track him down.  And Twilight Jack would find him here - he 
didn't know why he was so certain of that, but he was.  All he had to do 
was wait.
	He made his way across the room, skirting the pit.  He'd spotted a 
mostly-clear space against the far wall, benches set up for eating and 
drinking, and he pushed his way in that direction.
	Taking a seat on one of the benches he sat with his back to the wall.  
There was a fairly clear line of sight from here to the main entrance, 
and he kept a wary eye on it.  If Twilight Jack comes through, I'll spot 
him.  If the soldiers come through...
	A big brawny giff pulled back the chair across from him, sitting with a 
grumble.  The giff's shoulder partially blocked Julian's view of the 
door.
	"Hrunph," grunted the giff, sparing him a glance.  Julian wasn't 
certain whether it was supposed to be a greeting or not, gave the 
creature a brief nod of acknowledgment.
	The giff grunted again, turning away and gesturing to a nearby serving 
girl.  "Stew," he said in a sour voice.  "And ale.  I don't care what 
kind."
	The girl gave a nod and glanced at Julian questioningly.
	Julian started to tell her he wanted nothing, then checked himself.  It 
might look a little odd for him to be seated at the dining tables and 
not eating.  Besides, if he was being chased it might be best to grab a 
meal.  There was no telling when he'd get the chance again.  "Do you 
have duck?" he asked.
	"We've got pheasant, turkey, and stargoose," she said impatiently, "all 
served with rice and steamed vegetables.  No duck."
	"I'll take the pheasant then," he said, "and a light elven wine to go 
with it."
	She gave him a harried nod and melted off into the crowd almost before 
he'd finished speaking.
	Julian glanced at the giff but the creature was staring glumly down at 
the tabletop.  He returned his gaze to the entrance.  It stood empty for 
a moment, and then the milling crowd obscured it.
	Minutes passed.
	The serving girl returned with a platter of pheasant and vegetables and 
a mug of wine.  She set it before Julian and started to turn away, but 
the giff caught her wrist.
	"Where's my stew?" he asked.
	"It's coming," she said, trying to pull away, "cook's on it - still 
being made."
	"You trying to tell me stew takes longer to make than pheasant?  And 
where's my ale?"
	"I'll fetch it at once, sir," she said, still trying to pull away.
	The giff glanced over at Julian.  "Know what I think?  I think you got 
something against my kind.  First your fancy gaming tables cheat me out 
of my hard earnings, and now you don't even have the common decency to 
bring me my meal!"  His voice had gotten louder as he spoke, and his 
eyes glimmered with fury.  "You can serve him, but not me, huh?  Is that 
what it is?"
	Julian had watched the exchange impassively.  For a moment he thought 
of saying something, of getting involved, but quickly decided against 
it.  That giff could break him over its knee without thinking twice.  
There would be bouncers the girl could call if things got ugly.
	The giff's grip had tightened painfully on her wrist.  "Please, sir... 
I'll fetch it at once if you'll just-"
	Abruptly he let her go, and she pitched backwards from the sudden 
momentum, sprawling on the floor.  "Go," he snarled as she picked 
herself up.  "Tell your 'cook' to bring me my stew."
	He glared at Julian as the girl moved off.  "Well?  You got a problem, 
elf?"
	Julian shook his head.  "No problem."
	"Good."  The giff lapsed into surly silence again, staring down at its 
hands.  "Twenty-five gold," he muttered under his breath angrily.  
"Bloody wages for a month."
	Julian was staring across the room.  A brief pocket had opened in the 
crowd and his attention was drawn to the sight of a strange shape 
threading its way through the press.  To his surprise he realized it was 
the fal he had seen here on his first visit.
	On the earlier occasion Julian had wondered how the creature had 
managed to leave so quickly and with so little noise.  Now he saw it in 
motion, and realized at once that it was fare more nimble than it 
looked.  Agilely it darted through the crowd, moving much more quickly 
than Julian would have thought a creature of its bulk could.  The front 
half of its body was carried more or less upright, with the back half 
propelling it in a snakelike motion.  As it passed, a pocket of space 
opened around it, as those nearby stepped back, many plainly surprised 
at its unusual appearance.  Stares followed it, and strange looks.
	It went straight to the same gaming table where Julian had seen it 
before and halted.  The players there all stared at it; Julian couldn't 
hear anything from here, but imagined the fal politely requesting to 
join the game.
	A flash of silver at the entrance caught his eye, drawing his attention 
away from the alien fal.  A tall dusky-skinned woman stood there, 
armored from head to foot in some exotic silver metal which gleamed in 
the dim light.  In one hand she held a strangely-shaped polearm which 
stood taller than she, and behind her Julian saw other armored men.
	Diamond Jill!  
	For a moment he stopped breathing as her beautiful, alien gaze swept 
the room.  She was not human, he knew, but rather one of that mysterious 
race of warrior women, the lakshu.  Her real name was 
'Jillenhaiensha'rensesserett', or something close to that; the 
Storyteller had renamed her for obvious reasons.
	Julian knew precious little of the lakshu; no-one did.  They were all 
female, and ferocious warriors... and in some way were soul-bonded to 
the even more mysterious and powerful race of the reigar.  The two races 
were symbiotic; the lakshu served the reigar, and the reigar directed 
the lakshu.
	But both races, while powerful, were rare and reclusive, and seldom 
seen in 'known space'.  Diamond Jill was an exception to that rule; she 
had forged a reputation as one of the most capable bounty hunters ever 
known.  She was also unique among the lakshu in that she had never been 
seen in the company of a reigar, though it was commonly held to be 
biologically impossible for a lakshu to operate independantly.  Most 
rumor had it that she served the reigar in some way; that she was a 
bounty hunter under their orders, but it was only rumor.
	She possessed a cold and exotic beauty, but Julian wasn't fooled.
	Renowned for her deadliness even among her own kind, she was one of the 
most dangerous killers of the starlanes; if even half of the stories 
were true he wouldn't have a chance against her in combat.  And at the 
moment, he thought, I'm fresh out of killers to protect me.
	He sat frozen like a snared rabbit, knowing he should have looked away 
or ducked his head, but unable to do so.  His mind was racing.  How?  
How could they have found me so quickly?  If she sees me...
	But her gaze passed over him and moved on.  He forced himself to tear 
his eyes from her and stare down at his plate, unconsciously shifting so 
that more of the giff's bulk lay between him and where she stood.  
Automatically he lifted the fork and took a bite.  The pheasant was 
actually quite good; it could have been ashes for all that he noticed 
it.
	He glanced up	 and saw that the lakshu was giving orders to the men 
behind her.  With terse, efficient gestures she indicated that the six 
soldiers behind her should pair up and spread out in three different 
directions, searching the room.
	The men were well-trained; she never even glanced at them, much less 
spoke, yet they melted off in pairs, disappearing into the press in 
different directions.
	Diamond Jill strode forward as well, slowly making her way through the 
crowd and heading in his general direction, her head turning as she 
scanned the throng.
	Julian ripped his gaze away as her head swung in his direction again, 
slouching back into the shadows.  Fool! he thought, If you stare, she 
will feel your eyes on her!  He made himself wait a slow count of five 
before daring to look up again.  If she crosses to this side, she can't 
help but see me...
	But when he looked up, she had vanished.  He scanned the crowd 
desperately,  searching through the milling faces and forms.  If she had 
spotted him, she could be approaching from a different direction...
	He caught sight of her an instant later.  She had shifted direction and 
was now striding purposefully to the left side of the room, her eyes 
locked on something there.
	He followed his gaze, but saw nothing.  Unless...  The fal?
	He looked back at the lakshu.  She was forced to skirt around the 
throng at the edge of the pit, but her eyes remained locked on the table 
where the fal sat.  Why? he wondered.  She's hunting him too?
	He felt a tickle at the back of his mind.  It was his instincts, urging 
him to take a risk, to act.  He knew he should stay low, let the lakshu 
do what she would with the fal - what was the fal to him, anyway?  He 
had no illusions about his ability to stop the lakshu anyway.  Should he 
interfere, he would be the one who needed protection, and Twilight Jack 
wasn't here.  All common sense dictated he should stay where he was at 
and hope that the lakshu was distracted enough with the fal that he went 
unnoticed.
	But his instincts were tingling.  Even as he wondered what he would do, 
an idea came to him.  "You seem to have had hard luck," he said.
	The giff stared at him.  "What?"
	"Hard luck.  I notice you seem to have lost some gold at the tables 
tonight."
	The giff's eyes hardened and his voice took a dangerous tone.  "You 
talking to me, elf?  'Cause I don't recall asking you anything."
	Julian produced a small purse and laid it on the table between them.  
It gave a soft clink as he set it down.  "Fifty-seven gold pieces," said 
Julian.  "Plus a few silver and copper."
	The giff stared at it.  "What's it for?" he asked.
	"You."  Julian gave a half smile.  "I thought I might give you a chance 
to make back what you lost."
	The giff was silent for a moment, then reached for the pouch.  "What do 
I have to do for it?"
	"Five minutes work," said Julian, rising.  "Nothing more.  Follow me at 
a distance, and be ready to take up the shout."
	"Shout?"  But Julian was already walking away.  The giff hefted the 
purse of gold skeptically, then scraped back his chair and rose.  He 
shook his head.  "Crazy damn elves," he muttered, stepping into the 
crowd.
	Julian didn't look back to see if he was followed.  The giff could just 
as easily take the gold and disappear into the crowd - there was nothing 
he could do about it either way.  He didn't allow himself to consider 
the possibility.  His plan was shaky enough as it was without the giff's 
help, and he was keenly aware of the possibility it would lead to 
certain death.
	He deftly slipped through the throng, following the progress of the 
lakshu.  She was nearly at the fal's gaming table now, only a few steps 
away, and the thought occurred to Julian that he might not get there in 
time to stop whatever was going to happen.
	Just at that moment a pair of laughing dracon males lurched into her 
path, causing her to halt as they passed.  The dracon were both holding 
tall mugs brimming with dark ale, and one of them paused, hoisting his 
mug into the air and boisterously shouting some obscene toast.  Julian 
couldn't make the words over the noise of the crowd, but whatever it 
said caused its companion throw back its massive head and howl with 
coarse laughter.  The lakshu, irritated by the delay, waited a moment 
for them to pass on, then tried to skirt around them, but one of the 
dracon stood so that the length of its body made this impossible.
	Julian altered course, swerving so that he passed right behind the back 
of a dealer at a table where 'Boccob's Curse' was being played.  The 
dealer was bent over the table, retrieving the two ten-sided dice that 
were used to play.  In one smooth motion Julian's hand darted out, 
palming one of the unused replacement sets of dice from its little tray 
near the dealer's waist.
	The move took less than half a heartbeat to complete, and Julian was 
once again cutting through the crowd, heading towards the lakshu.  Not 
bad, he thought, appraising his dexterity.  Probably no-one noticed, and 
even if they did, they won't be able to catch up with me before I reach 
the lakshu.  And if they do... so much the better to add to the 
confusion.
	The dracon had moved on, and the lakshu was striding forward again, 
coming to a halt leaning over the table.  The players all looked up at 
her as she appeared, most surprised.  There was no doubt who she was 
after now; she had lifted one gauntleted hand and was pointing at the 
fal.  The fal was staring at her; it was impossible to gauge what it's 
reaction was.
	A pocket opened in the crowd in front of him, and Julian was able to 
close the distance in three strides.  He tried not to think of the 
terrible risk he was taking, going up against Diamond Jill.
	"Listen, fal," she was saying, in a gravelly voice full of threat, "we 
know you've got Windhook, so don't try to deny it.  You want to live, 
then you'd better start cooperating."
	Julian brushed her left arm from behind, intending to feign an 
accidental collision, but it was like hitting a sharply-armored steel 
post and he stumbled back from her.  The two dice he had palmed 
clattered to the floor.
	She turned to him, and a flash of recognition lit her eyes.  "You!" she 
said, sounding both surprised and grim at once.  "Prepare to die, fool."
	But Julian was hardly listening.  He was pointing to the dice which had 
fallen to the floor.  "Cheat!" he cried.  "Cheat!"
	For an instant a hush engulfed the crowd.
	"Cheat!" came a bellow from behind Julian and to his right, and it was 
all he could do to keep a triumphant grin from his face.  The giff had 
followed, and taken up the cry!
	"Cheat!" cried Julian again, but his voice was drowned out by a 
half-orc that had been standing at a nearby table.  "Cheat!" howled the 
orc.  "Into the pit!"
	And now the cry was taken up all over the room.
	"Cheat!"  "Cheat!"  "Cheat!"  "Cheat!"
	The lakshu had taken a tighter grip on her polearm, staring at the 
surrounding crowd in confusion and surprise.  "What manner of 
foolishness-" she started, backing off a step, but a wiry human seized 
one of her arms.
	She ripped away from his grasp easily, but a nearby dwarf caught hold 
of the base of her polearm, hampering her movements.  She tried to 
strike him with an elbow blow, but already two other humans had seized 
her by either arm.
	She twisted in their grip, sending both flailing to the floor, but 
already their hands had been replaced by others:  giff, humans, a gnome, 
and even a dracon.
	She writhed and fought, but even a warrior as skilled as she could do 
little to fight the sudden onslaught of the crowd.  Her polearm was 
yanked from her grasp by the stout dwarf and, kicking and fighting, she 
was lifted from her feet.
	Hand over hand the crowd bore her towards the pit.  She fought every 
bit of the way, but there was little she could do.  She stared at Julian 
just at the edge, her eyes filled with hate, and she gave a short scream 
filled with rage and frustration.
	Then she was heaved over the edge, and the crowd surged forward, 
blocking any possible view.
	"Taking bets!" yelled the same half-orc Julian had seen on the earlier 
occasion, standing atop one of the tables near the edge of the pit.  
"Who'll wager?"
	A bestial roar came from within the pit, and the crowd roared in 
approval, shouting taunts, curses, pleas.  A fierce female battlecry 
came from the pit, and a second roar sounded, this one tinged with pain.  
She's a lakshu, thought Julian.  They took her polearm, but that 
wouldn't be her only weapon...
	There was a cry and a clash of steel on steel from the far side of the 
room.  Two of the soldiers that had entered with the lakshu were there, 
swords bared, fighting their way to the pit.  Julian saw two others 
dashing for the entrance, no doubt to fetch reinforcements.
	Julian had already turned.  His heart was racing and he felt a fierce 
exhultation, but he knew he had to act quickly.  Surprise and confusion 
was on his side now, but if the soldiers were disciplined, there was 
still a chance he would be caught.  And for all he knew, Diamond Jill 
would be climbing out of that pit any minute now, bloodied and angry.
	The fal was already halfway to the far wall, where a set of swinging 
doors led into the kitchens.  As he watched, the fal nimbly slipped 
through one of the doors after a serving girl emerged with a platter of 
steaming vegetables balanced atop one slender hand.
	Julian cursed and leapt forward.  Damn, but the thing was fast!
	He darted between the swinging doors, entering the sweltering heat of 
the kitchens.  It was even more dimly lighted here than in the gaming 
room; the main source of illumination came from the large fire-pit over 
which three oxen were slowly being basted on turning spits.
	The room was bustling with serving girls and grimy cooks, all stepping 
to their tasks with quick efficiency.  Jack stepped aside to let a young 
elf girl bearing a pitcher of wine and several glasses pass him as he 
entered.
	He spotted the fal at the far side of the kitchen, exiting a small 
wooden door that led outside the building.
	"Bloody hell," he muttered, threading his way through the cooks.
	A moment later he was at the wooden door.  He hesitated a moment then.  
If the soldiers had been stationed outside...
	He shook his head; there was no point in 'what if' now.  He pushed open 
the door and ducked into the alley beyond.
	It was empty except for a pile of refuse and the fal, who was heading 
swiftly  away.
	"Hold it!" shouted Julian, then immediately cursed himself for a fool.
	The frightened fal shot back a glance at him, then raced away.
	Julian sprinted after it.  "Wait!" he said, then bit his tongue.  
Shouting would be self-defeating if it attracted the attention of the 
soldiers.  He put his will into running.  The fal was faster than it 
looked, true, but moving in a straight line it could not move as quickly 
as a man could run, and Julian was gaining.
	Julian was less than half a span behind when the creature suddenly 
veered off to the right, cutting into a smaller side-alley that 
intersected the one they were on.  The shift in direction was so abrupt 
that Julian nearly missed the turn himself and had to scramble to keep 
from losing his feet.  Damn, the thing was fast!
	Just as he made the turn his left boot went flying out from under him 
and he skittered down hard on his side, grunting.
	He cursed as he scrambled to his feet, aware he had lost precious 
seconds and wondering how he could have fallen.  It was as if his foot 
had decided to rebel against his control.  There was a stinging on his 
arm; he must have scraped it.
	The fal had gained a few yards, racing around a low pile of rotting 
wooden crates and continuing down the alley.
	Julian sprinted after it, leaping the discarded crates in hopes of 
gaining back some of the ground he'd lost.
	At least that was how he planned it.  But at the last moment his legs 
refused to obey him, and instead of jumping he only continued running.  
He slammed into the pile, his shins crashing painfully against the rough 
wooden edges and pitching him sprawling.  With a crash, the crates went 
flying and he went down, tumbling and rolling.
	"Apologies!  Apologies!" said the fal, continuing to run.
	He lay there for a minute among the wreckage, stars dancing in his 
peripheral vision.  The fall had knocked the wind out of him and he 
struggled painfully to draw breath.  What the hell! he thought, 
astonished.  The first time could have been an accident, but that 
time... his body had simply refused to obey him, there was no other 
explanation.
	He rolled onto his side, trying to regain his feet, but his ankle 
shrieked in protest when he tried to put weight on it and he collapsed 
back to the rocky ground.  The fal was well ahead of him now; there was 
little chance he would be able to catch it, especially with a twisted 
ankle.  Moments later the creature was gone and Julian was left alone.
	He lay there a moment, panting, staring up at the blackness of  the 
eternally-dark Syrrus B sky.  Then he rolled onto his side again, 
pulling himself up gingerly onto all fours.  He gave a groan; he felt 
bruised everywhere.
	A coughing grunt was ripped from him as a boot suddenly slammed into 
his ribs, the vicious force of the kick pitching him back over onto his 
side.
	"Get 'im, Graith!" a rough voice said.
	There were two men in the alley with him - human, he thought, though it 
was difficult to be certain in the darkness.  Both were wiry in build, 
unkempt in appearance.
	As Julian tried to raise himself, the nearer one kicked again, his boot 
connecting solidly with the side of the elf's head.
	With a cry he went back down.  His vision swam for a moment, and when 
it came back into focus he found himself looking up at a swarthy, 
unshaven face.
	The man was grinning, blackened and yellowed teeth bared ferally.  He 
had a grip on Julian's hair and was holding a wicked-looking dagger in 
one hand.  He shook Julian, then spat in the elf's face.  "Get ready for 
oblivion, you stinking dirty elf!"
	"His purse, Graith!  Get his purse!"  From this angle Julian couldn't 
see the man's companion, but it didn't matter.  He was about to die; he 
knew that.  One stab from 'Graith' and that would be the end of him.  He 
was in no condition to fight, and wasn't certain it would have made much 
difference if he was; the man looked like a capable killer.
	Graith grinned again and reared back, lifting his dagger.
	There was a whirring sound and the man atop him gave a strangled cry, 
toppling backwards.  The hilt of a stilletto protruded from his throat.
	There was a cry from off to Julian's right, followed by the sound of 
footsteps running away.
	Uncertain what was happening, Julian sat there for a moment, then 
wrestled the dead man's body off of his legs.
	"You look like you've had a busy night," said Twilight Jack.
	Julian looked up at him.  "Where... ?  Where did you come from?"
	Jack shrugged.  "I told you I would find you.  It appears my timing was 
fortunate, though I admit it's only the merest coincidence that I 
stumbled across you here.  May I ask what you're doing here?"
	Julian took the hand Jack proffered and rose shakily.  "The inn where 
we were stayiing... they've destroyed it."
	"I know," said Jack.  "I've seen it.  Who were they?"
	Julian shook his head.  "Soldiers... I don't know.  Diamond Jill was 
with them.  She seemed in charge.  She... They showed up at the Black 
Palace.  I thought they'd tracked me down, but they were after another - 
the fal, the one you mentioned before, the seeker.  And they were after 
him because they thought he held Windhook."
	Jack stared at him.  "You're certain?"
	Julian nodded.  "I heard it from Diamond Jill herself.  She was there 
for the fal."
	"And where is she now?"
	Julian gave a rueful shrug.  "Probably clawing her way out of the 
fighting pit.  I had this plan to rescue the fal... it's a long story, 
and I don't imagine she's too happy with me right now.  But the fal got 
away."  For the first time, he saw the girl standing behind Jack, grimy 
and wrapped in a tattered blanket.  "Who's that?"
	"A girl I picked up," said Jack.
	"This hardly seems the time-"
	Jack shook his head.  "It's nothing like that.  She might be useful."
	"Useful for what?" asked Julian, staring at her.  She looked like a 
frightened girl, smudged and dirty.  "Surely not in finding the fal."
	"If the fal has Windhook," said Jack with a smile, "we'll have him 
soon."
	"But how?" asked Julian.  "Do you know where to find it?"
	"I have some ideas," said Jack.  "Locating the fal should present 
little problem."  He looked at the elf, and then glanced back at the 
girl. "But getting to it first might be.  You're in no fit condition to 
come, and the last thing I need is to drag the girl along.  I'll have to 
find a place for you to wait.  Can you walk?"
	Julian gingerly put weight on his left foot again and winced.  "With 
help, he said.  "I think I sprained it.  It's not bad, but it will slow 
me."
	Jack nodded, and offered his arm.  "Come on then.  I have a place 
nearby."
	"You have a place?" asked Julian as Jack took up his weight.  "What do 
you mean by that?"
	Jack shrugged.  "A place to lie low.  I have five scattered throughout 
the city.  Finding them was one of the first things I did once we put 
down.  I like to be prepared."

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